


Harry Potter and the IMF

by TLvop



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLvop/pseuds/TLvop
Summary: A group of invisible spiders encoding secret information has gone missing, and only Harry Potter can save is authorized to save them!Thankfully, Luna doesn't care much about authorizations, and Ethan Hunt works for a different government entirely.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deepdarkwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts).



> Not based on Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them or Cursed Child canon additions -- I don't know either, yet!

There's very little to look at in the office that Ethan hasn’t already seen, and what's left isn't all that easy to look at given the two guards flanking the door politely. Ethan stands by, trying to look patiently disinterested, and is relieved when he isn't kept waiting long.

The prime minister – gray hair, gray eyes, gray suit – walks in through the door, and smiles mildly at Ethan. "Good morning," he says, while gesturing for the guards to wait outside.

"Good morning, sir." The guards leave the office, but he's focused on the prime minister. The prime minister sweeps forward, and takes a seat. Ethan, after a moment, follows his lead.

"I'm glad Secretary Hunley was able to spare you." The prime minister's brow wrinkles, and he watches Ethan. "The matter at hand is ...tricky."

Ethan waits, until it becomes clear that clarification won't be forthcoming. "Tricky how, sir?" 

The prime minister opens his mouth, and closes it. He sighs. "There are ... a group of people within Britain who are allied to the government but not, exactly, beholden to it. A small group, but ... with persuasive representation."

Ethan watches him.

"They – need the aid of a discreet intelligence agency to acquire access into the United States in order to hunt down some sort of intelligence leak, if I understand correctly." He rubs at his chin, mouth twisting. "They seem to think it could be a great danger to many – normal people. And some of theirs, as well."

Getting into the United States shouldn't be that – Ethan hesitates. This is not the type of mission people ask him to run, but Secretary Hunley was very clear on the importance of _building ties, Hunt_. "They just need assistance into the country?"

The prime minister makes a thoughtful noise, and smiles at him. "To their destination, yes. I ... fully trust their representative to have the best intent regarding civilian life. Would you be willing to work with him?"

This is weird enough that it is probably a trap, but Ethan can't smell one, can't tell anything other than that the Prime Minister seems sort of quietly pleased about the whole thing. The Prime Minister has no reason to like him, but he also has no reason to set him up for anything more than mild unpleasantness. . Ethan thinks Hunley would want him to look into it, and the best way to investigate this group right now is to take the mission. "Yes," he says. "I would."

The prime minister pulls out a cellphone, and calls someone up. "Ah, hello," he says, a little over-loud for clarity. "Yes, if you would come by – thank you."

After a moment, there's a faint pop from one of the doors that Ethan was convinced was a closet. Ethan doesn’t acknowledge the noise until the Prime Minister eyes the closet expectantly. He turns to look at it.

The man who walks out is tall, and hand-combing the dust out of his shock of black hair. Early thirties, Caucasian, thin but with muscle that speaks of school athletics if not a continuing interest. There's the scar of an old injury on his forehead. He wears his jeans and plain t-shirt comfortably, even in an environment as incongruous to his sneakers as the office of the prime minister.

"Hello," he says, and smiles a little awkwardly at them. "Nice morning, isn't it?"

"Yes," the prime minister says, and stands. Ethan stands a moment later. "This is my primary contact with the community," he explains to Ethan. "He's spent a good amount of time explaining things to me and – training."

The agent waves this away with his hand. "I don't mind, sir." He glances to Ethan. "You're Agent Hunt – IMF?"

"Guilty as charged," Ethan says, with a testing smile, and gets a smile back, as well as an offered hand.

As he takes it, the man says: "Good to meet you, then. I'm Harry Potter."

\---

Potter doesn't divulge anything further of the mission, other than a need to reach Phoenix, Arizona, on their way to the company car.

Hunt stops. There's a wispy woman leaned against his car, paging through a handbound book. Hunt waves his hand slightly, and smiles, pitching his voice friendly . "Excuse me, miss...?"

She doesn't look up, brow furrowing as she makes a note in the book. " _Luna_ ," Potter says, having finally figured out his way past the rotating door. "I thought Neville–"  
"They're _my_ friends," the woman says, looking up, "and I'm the expert." She flourishes her ball-point pen at him, as if making a point, then caps it with a click.

Potter pinches his nose, and sighs. "Mr. Hunt, this is Dr. Lovegood. Luna, Ethan Hunt."

She's wearing a long-sleeved purple paisley shirt under a jean shirt, the sleeves of the second shirt pushed all the way over her elbows. She's wearing thick-rimmed white glasses, jeans, and once-tan sneakers that have been stained a blotchy bright blue. Her white-blonde hair's in a fishtail braid, with a number of different-colored ribbon ties throughout it. 

She wiggles her fingers at him.

"Hi," he says. He leans in slightly. "How – did you know this was my car?"

"I asked a – a friend," she replies, seeming satisfied with her word choice. She leans towards him, eyes giant behind the magnification, but tone incredibly matter-of-fact. "You smell like secrets."

"... Okay," Ethan says, looking back at Potter, who shrugs at him. "Good to know. Can we talk about this on our way to Heathrow?"

Ethan has to wait in the driver's seat while there's a brief discussion between his passengers outside of the car, but after a minute Dr. Lovegood slides into the front passenger seat.

Potter clears his throat, once he gets into the car. "There's a certain amount of secrecy I cannot break as a government employee," he says. "I'm an investigator and law-enforcement official for the British Isles, though we occasionally do joint task-forces with Normandy, or accompany citizens to locations not otherwise policed when it's relevant to the government's interests."

Lovegood's hanging over the back of the seat, watching Potter.

"Could you – buckle up?" Ethan asks her, though he's watching Potter almost as much as he's watching the road.

"Oh," Dr. Lovegood says, "of course." But despite the buckle clicking, she manages to stay completely turned in her seat.

"Dr. Lovegood is a field scientist," he says. "She works in, uh – general ecology?"

"I'm more animal biology, I think," Lovegood says. "We use different names for everything," she tells Ethan, as if he's supposed to know who _we_ are.

"Okay," Potter says. "Dr. Longbottom is a mutual friend of ours who works in ecology, and some of his work that Luna helped to encrypt has gone missing."

"They went missing years ago," Lovegood corrects, "but we just got wind of where they went."

Ethan glances into the rearview mirror, at Potter. "Arizona?"

"Exactly."

Ethan's silent for a long moment. "I need to know more about your community. What's with the secrecy? What's your relationship to the British government?"

"Oh, that's the part I'm supposed to explain," Lovegood says, suddenly straightening out in her seat. "I didn't take a vow of secrecy. We're wizards."

Potter chokes slightly in the back seat, and Ethan glances at her. She looks completely serious. He pulls into a street parking space. "I'm sorry?"

Lovegood hesitates, and adjusts her glasses, looking back at Potter. Her brow furrows, and her voice slows as if remembering something word for word. "The script goes: We're members of a community that have powers not currently explained by science, and which has often been identified as magic in the past. We identify as magic-users, and wizards, though for the most part we are areligious in that association and culturally do not overlap with people who practice magic as an expression of religious or spiritual devotion. British cultural norms have shaped us, by wont of us sharing a country, but we are for the most part a politically separate and small community."

Potter gives her a thumbs-up from the back seat, and her brow clears. "Do you want a demonstration?"

"Sure," Ethan says, staring between her and Potter. "I mean—yes, I do."

"No," Potter says, as Lovegood starts to draw a piece of wood out from her sleeve. "The sensors at the airport will notice anything that's been cast on anything we're touching recently.

"Oh, you're right." Lovegood pushes the stick back in. "I'll be in luggage, but best not to risk it."

"Right," Ethan says, as if he remembers, and pulls back out onto the street.

At the parking garage, Potter asks him to pop the trunk. Ethan joins them to find Potter's briefcase open in the trunk, Potter glancing into it, but no Lovegood to be found.

"Honestly, Harry!" he hears her voice call from some distance away – through the briefcase. "There's more to life than Quidditch, you know."

"It's Ginny's case," Potter says, then gives Ethan a sort of embarrassed smile before continuing to answer Lovegood who's -- _in the briefcase_. "We've got a flight to catch. There's snacks in the back room, and the bed folds down."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says, and he closes the lid, latching it. He picks it up, like it's an entirely normal briefcase.

"I'm not ... sure I understand."

"Oh, well – it's a pre-set spell, so it shouldn't set any sensors off. Space distortion. It's like –" he clearly flounders for an explanation. "A hidden room. Very expensive, but my wife's a pro athlete, so it's worth it."

"Right," Ethan says, grappling with the thought. "Your people don't get involved in international politics?"

Potter's mouth twists. "We have trouble enough with local." He opens an exterior pocket to his briefcase, and pulls out a passport. "This is what they gave me," he says. "That's all we need?"

"I'll get the tickets."

\--

Eight hours over the Atlantic is enough time to fill with small talk, and some general discussion of what to expect. Lovegood and Potter's friend, Longbottom, was a guest speaker a year ago on Sustainability for the local students union (made up of "people like Luna and I," Potter says, still avoiding the words 'magical,' 'wizarding,' and 'spell' like they were cursed). One of the students worked in biochemistry, and had become aware of a hidden area on a sub-level devoted to spider silk studies. She'd remembered Dr. Longbottom's loss of a series of research papers encoded onto a type of presumably magical spider, which Lovegood was an expert in and – possibly—friends with the spiders themselves? That part was unclear to Ethan, whether the spiders were capable of maintaining friendships or Dr. Lovegood would make friends with typical spiders anyway.

There was research on a group of the spiders taking place, under the black lights required to view the patterns in their spider silk, and he'd reported it to Longbottom.

"Why would lost research into ecology interest you?" Ethan asks. "The government doesn't usually fund favors for friends."

Potter sighs, and looks around for the tenth time in the past five minutes. They're in the back of the plane, near the restrooms, and it's local night. There's still the occasional bathroom line, but no one currently in easy hearing distance. "It's an agricultural invention." He shrugs. "I don't entirely understand it, but it's a way to not waste water by directly taking it from a larger source to specific smaller sources. The Head—Longbottom's superior pointed out that it could be exploited to take water from surrounding ecosystems and draining it into another, so he encoded the work with Lovegood's help, and destroyed the hard copies. The American communities are more fragmented than the United States," he adds, "and with something like this the desert territory could potentially withdraw from the union." He hesitates. "That might not be bad? I'm not – a political scientist. But it would cause severe harm to ecology, which would be bad, any instability in North America could disrupt trade which my government would prefer not to do, and if the research is traced back to our people..." Potter shrugs. "There's also the potential that they could draw attention to themselves, which could lead to ... paranoia. And paranoia doesn't usually treat us well."

"Paranoia doesn't treat anyone well," Ethan says.

Potter looks surprised, then smiles at him. "You're still paranoid, aren't you?"

Ethan shrugs. "Aren't you?"

"Only most of the time."

\--

Harry's only been to the United Wizarding Territories once, when Louisiana hosted the World Cup. Or twice, if you count his terrible layover in Alaska last year, but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to. He, Ginny, and James traveled via an extended Floo Network, a boat ride, and a portkey. Maybe it had been a ship ride, though, Harry wasn't sure. The owners of the _Galloping Griffin_ had called it a ship, but he was pretty sure ships could carry more than 25 passengers and their Quidditch gear.

It was very different, coming in by plane. Boston was nerve-wracking enough, with customs officials and the sheer press of human beings that usually only Muggles can conjure (the exception being, of course, the World Cup). But the series of planes they took across the country were progressively more uncomfortable, until they finally took a plane that was no larger than the Knight Bus to Mesa, Arizona.

As they hit the runway, Hunt sits up immediately from his apparent sleep, and straightens his cuffs. Harry rubs his fingers against the leather of his wristwatch, thumbnail getting briefly caught in the small loop under his wrist.

"Last airport?" he asks, only to confirm what Hunt had told him before.

"We're very close," Hunt says, and smiles at him. He looks a little tired, but not anything like as tired as Harry feels.

Harry smiles back.

The air is _hot_ , and Hunt breathes a laugh at seeing him step back for a moment at it. "Good thing it's October," he says, a little dry.

When Hunt's getting the rental car, Harry finds an unmonitored section of the parking lot, and opens the briefcase. "Luna?" he calls, into the soft light of it. He doesn't bend in to look, in case she's still sleeping – the timezones have played all sort of confusion on him, and he doesn't even know how to make sense of the schedule Luna seems to keep.

"Oh! One second," Luna says, and after a moment she pokes a hand out of the case, gripping the edge with the fingers of her other.

He grabs it, and pulls her out.

"There," Luna says, dusting herself off. She's exchanged the intricate braiding for a high ponytail, and is wearing a red t-shirt with gold lettering reading _Fear the Fork_ and her jeans.

Harry's brow knits. "Red and gold?"

Luna's look is unimpressed. " _Maroon_ , Harry," she says. "I was doing research in Sedona – that's north of here – during my residency. Muggles will believe anything, if they think you're a college student."

"Right," he says, still confused.

Hunt exits, and Luna waves at him cheerfully. He waves back, after taking a moment to read her shirt. He seems sort of impressed, and sort of surprised, and Harry's not sure whether or not to take offense on Luna's behalf at that.

Harry takes the front passenger seat, this time. "Lovegood, I'll need you to make contact with the students at the union."

"Aye aye," Luna says. "The wizarding union is by the art museum," she explains to Hunt. "It's a real building, it just has a hidden entrance."

"We'll give Luna the spiders," Harry says. "She can take them the long way – they don't handle our type of transportation very well."

"I've been meaning to go back to Yellowstone," Luna says, dreamily, and starts to hum under her breath.

"Will you need me for the infiltration?" Hunt asks, glancing sideways at Harry, and Harry feels suddenly sheepish.

"I've broken into just about everywhere in Great Britain," he says. "So ... probably not, if it would be an issue with your government? But I would appreciate any help in escaping."

Hunt looks at him for several long moments. Harry doesn't shrink under the observation, but he wants to – he's relieved, almost, when someone cuts them off in traffic and Hunt has to look back at the road.

"What do you think, Dr. Lovegood?" he asks, after a moment, and Harry glances back at Luna.  
She's quiet, keeping eye contact with Harry, a slight line across her brow. "You wouldn't think it," she says, "but Harry can do amazing things." Her line of sight moves, and it takes Harry a moment to realize she's making eye contact with Hunt in the mirror. "He's better with help."

Hunt nods. "I'll go with him."

Harry doesn't say anything – he's not sure if he should be relieved or not.

"After all," Luna says, 5 minutes later into the silence, after she's finished humming the complete tune of a Wyrd Sisters song from back in school. "Someone will need to carry the spiders. They're invisible."

\--

The college campus is just as annoying and confusing as any other, but thankfully Lovegood seems to know her way around. They park by the art museum, and Lovegood knocks in a quick series on the door. Potter, looking uncomfortable, dons a baseball hat he'd bought in the Boston airport, pulling it down low. Ethan leans against the wall, and raises his eyes at him.

"I'm a little conspicuous," Potter mutters, embarrassed, and dons a pair of sunglasses as well before the door opens.

"Yeah?" A girl answers the door. A woman. Ethan barely interacts with college students, but they are technically adults.

"Hi," Lovegood says, "um, is Daniel in? I'm Dr. Lovegood, from the Scamander Institute." The woman's eyes go wide, and she shouts down the hall for him..

"I'm going to go deaf someday, Priya," a voice comes from down the hall. A lanky guy appears, and glances at Ethan and Potter a little suspiciously, before smiling at Lovegood. From the face the woman pulls, Ethan figures this isn't unusual behavior. "Maria's in lab most of today, Dr. Lovegood, but she's expecting visitors. I thought Dr. Longbottom was coming?"

"The Ministry decided to send people, instead," Lovegood says. "I'll be staying with you." She turns, and looks at Potter. "Do you need a map?"

"No," Ethan replies in his stead, glancing at Potter, who's still trying not to look directly at the wizard students. "I found one on the plane." The normal spider lab wasn't even a secret, if a little secretive.

Potter takes off his sunglasses as they leave, and relaxes. The walk across campus is a short, if sun-drenched, one.

"Your wife's not the only famous one, I take it?"

He snorts. "Everyone's... kind of used to me back home. It used to be really awkward, but I was famous for long enough in a small enough community that they mostly got over it. Here... maybe they wouldn't all recognized me, but," he waves at his face, pushing up the brim of his hat to reveal his scar, "this is a dead giveaway. My life's been... cinematic."

"Yeah," Ethan replies, not entirely commiserative. He just does his job.

(He can hear Brandt and Benji's disbelief, even on just thinking it.)

\--

There's a student sitting at the coffee shop nearest the science buildings, her feet in their vibrant blue boots (practical, other than the color) propped up across from her. She's drinking a large frozen coffee, and scanning the area worriedly.

Before Ethan can point her out, she catches sight of them, and straightens dramatically. She stands, and puts down her drink, and dries her hands off on her jeans. "You're Harry Potter," she says to Potter, and then blushes. "Sorry, I mean -- I'm Maria Soto-- I'm getting my master's in biochem. I thought Dr. Longbottom was coming?"

"The ministry wanted an agent on it, and we're old friends," Potter says, and she nods as he says it.

"I read the biography on him," she says. "My undergrad Herbology teacher is a huge fan. He's such a badass! Sorry."

Potter laughs, a little. "You said there's a pretty thorough fire escape system?

"Yes, completely," she says. "All the labs empty out, even the ones adjacent to the Muggle facilities."

"That's anticlimactic," Ethan says, and Potter grins at him. "I'm good with anticlimactic," he adds.

\--

It's less boring than Ethan would have hoped, though thank everything only a couple of the invisible spiders escape from the box before Potter explains they're Lovegood's friends.

His watch apparently stores a wand, somehow, invisibly -- maybe something like the briefcase -- and he stacked the spider environments on a carry system before drawing a faintly shimmering line around the room's walls.

"You don't have a pacemaker, do you?" he asks, and at Ethan's affirmation that he doesn't, tosses a large marble of crystal out of his jeans pocket, whispering something as he aims at it.  
There's a rush of noise, and all of the equipment and lighting in the room goes off.

"Was that an EMP?" Ethan says, a couple seconds later, regaining his footing.

"Sort of," Potter says. "Our talents and technology and magnetism all effect each other. No idea how. Coming?"

\--

Harry watches Hunt for a few long moments, once they're back at Heathrow. "I'm supposed to wipe your memory," he tells him, throwing caution to the wind.

"I ... didn't know you could do that," Hunt says. Harry can't read his expression, other than _cautious_.

"Standard procedure, when working with Muggles. Other than the Prime Minister," Harry says. "That's, uh – how we found out about you. He has memory recovery training."

Hunt's silent for a long moment. "Are you going to?"

"Should I?" Harry tilts his head to make sure to create eye contact. Even a Muggle can recognize their brain being read if you try too hard, and it's rude anyway, so he just skims the top of Hunt's mind, trying not to pry, but keep an awareness of his response to the question.

Hunt is silent, but internally he fears losing what he knows of the world, but is still quietly certain that no matter what happens he will land on his feet.

"You don't know me at all," Hunt says, and smiles. "So you shouldn't take my advice."

"Right." Harry starts walking again towards the exit and, after a moment, Hunt follows him.

"Why wouldn't you?" Hunt asks.

"I want you to know who to contact if you encounter a situation with ... my people," Harry says. He draws out a business card from the side of the briefcase, and hands it to Hunt. It's labeled with a landline -- they live in too magical of a neighborhood to have cell reception. "The messages at that number can only be heard by me and my wife."

Hunt scans it, and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "Good doing business with you. Do you need a ride?"

Harry glances at him, and smirks for a moment, now that they're in one of Heathrow's Transportation Spots for Visiting Wizards. There's no one arriving or leaving, right now, but there's the faint smell of recent traffic. He flicks his wrist, wand popping into his hand. "No," he says. "Thanks."

He flicks it, whispering under his breath, and Disapparates to his office with a _pop_.

\--

Several weeks later, there's a four-wheeler at a camping site in Yellowstone Park, with a young woman wearing sparkling black tights and a greyish shift climbing over the nearby stream, hands finding their perches exactly where she's looking for them.

There's a sound like thrumming, in the air, like a tightly pulled net has been hit with some force. She glances up, tapping the side of her glasses.

"Oh," Luna says, and laughs. "Yes, we _should_ go to Yosemite next."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, DeepDarkWaters! I hope you enjoyed this -- I had a lot of fun crossing over Harry Potter and Mission Impossible, and I really appreciated the opportunity to do so. Have a wonderful week!


End file.
